


#37: 	When You Marry Someone, Remember You Marry Their Entire Family

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: 100 Rules for Adults (That Clint Barton Never Learned) [37]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Care packages, Engagement, M/M, Misunderstandings, Phil's Mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:39:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3683730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint gets a package from Phil's mom and says something that leads to a misunderstanding, and then an understanding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#37: 	When You Marry Someone, Remember You Marry Their Entire Family

“I think my mom wants to adopt you,” Phil said, tossing a package at Clint as he entered his office.

Clint caught it without moving much from where he was reclined on the sofa shoved up against one wall. “Yeah?” Clint asked, turning the parcel over in his hands. It was addressed to him, care of Phil, at the PO Box Phil kept for his personal mail. Phil’s mom’s information was in the return address box. He looked up at Phil, a question written on his features. 

“Don’t ask me, I don’t know,” Phil said. “But if it’s cookies, you have to share.”

“Do not,” Clint said, mostly because it was expected (and Mrs. Coulson made awesome oatmeal cookies). Pulling a knife from his belt, he slid it under the flap of the box. “Why do you think she wants to adopt me,” he said, sheathing the knife before opening the box the rest of the way.

“Exhibit A,” Phil said dryly, nodding at the package in Clint’s hands before he turned back to his desk, looking for a particular file folder for the meeting he had in half an hour.

“You should probably marry me then, so it doesn’t get awkward,” Clint said offhand, setting aside the letter on top to see what she had packed for him. 

It took Clint a moment to realize that Phil had gone completely still. Not his normal economy of movement stillness, conserving energy for when it was needed, but a full body tension, hands frozen over the folders on his desk, chest barely rising and falling with his breath. “Phil?” Clint said, laying the box aside as he smoothly gained his feet and crossed the room in a couple of steps, scanning for what could have triggered that response. “Sir?” he prompted again when Phil hadn’t responded, glancing over the folders and papers on Phil’s desk for a sign of trouble.

That seemed to shake Phil lose. “Sorry. Senior moment,” he said, his voice light, but Clint could read the tightness around his eyes. He picked up his files. “I’ve got a meeting. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. Phil –“ Clint started to ask, frowning.

“And seriously, Clint, don’t forget your paperwork for the upcoming Salinas thing,” Phil said, straightening his tie as he reached the door.

Clint watched him go, a little hurt and a lot confused. He’d only been teasing, but was Phil that opposed to spending the rest of his life with Clint? They’d talked about it, a little bit; they were already medical proxies and life insurance beneficiaries for each other (well, Clint’s were split between Phil and Natasha), and they practically lived together at Phil’s place, though they’d discussed looking for somewhere that could be theirs. Had Phil really only been placating Clint? Was Clint more invested in “them” than Phil was? 

“No,” Clint said out loud with a shake of his head. It was something else; Clint knew Phil was chin-deep in planning a massive mission that even Clint didn’t know anything about – not even the target. He may not have been able to say it yet, but Clint loved Phil, and he was 93% sure that Phil felt the same for him. 

He plucked the package from Phil’s mom from the couch and left, making sure to lock Phil’s office behind him as he made his way to his own cubicle shaped office. While his computer booted, Clint looked through the contents of the box. He smiled as he set aside a small box of cookies, a pair of sox with dinosaurs on them and another with pizza slices (Phil’s mom was a bit of a nerd), and a paperback copy of _The Kitchen House_. He set them aside and quickly read through the note she’d sent. Mostly that she’d thought he could use the socks and thought he might like the book, and that if Phil hadn’t gotten his own box of cookies and treats yet, he would soon, and would Clint please drag Phil back for another visit some time soon.

Clint tucked the letter carefully away and set himself on the paperwork. By the time he had finished his backlog as well as the current (he wasn’t as bad at it as everyone thought), he had half expected to see a note from Phil asking if he wanted to get dinner or that he was finished. But there was nothing. 

Frowning once again, Clint gathered what he could take off base and made his way to his own apartment, figuring that since Phil hadn’t contacted him, he would want his space for the night. 

Once he was changed in comfortable clothes (also contrary to popular belief, he didn’t wander around in his field uniform all the time), he warmed up something for dinner and settled on the couch. Halfway through an episode of _Kitchen Nightmares_ , though, someone knocked on his door.

Through the peephole, Phil looked tired, stressed, and windblown. Clint opened the door, and Phil stepped into his personal space before Clint could say anything, his palms grasping Clint’s cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Hi,” Clint said, breathless, when Phil finally broke the kiss. 

“Hi,” Phil answered, resting his forehead against Clint’s. 

Clint slowly backed into his place, pulling Phil with him, and nudging the door shut with a foot. “You okay?” He asked once they had a bit more privacy.

“No,” Phil said honestly before he stepped back. 

“Okay,” Clint said simply. “What can I do?”

“Marry me,” Phil answered simply. Clint blinked. “It means taking on my mother, and probably getting a terrifying version of a shovel talk from Nick and…”

“Phil.” Clint said, stopping him from doing as close as he’d ever seen to babbling. “Yes. But, earlier today…”

“Earlier today you were half joking, but you also must have meant it or you never would have even joked about it,” Phil interrupted. “It surprised me, how much I wanted that. Wanted to be able to come home to you every night, to find a place together and build a life together. So. Marry me. Help me take care of my mom, since she wants you to be her other son anyway.”

Clint kissed him, the barest brush of lips. “Yes.”


End file.
